Locked In
by Grid Gypsy
Summary: While trapped inside his own body and lying in a hospital bed, Adam receives a visitor that will turn his whole world upside down.
1. Chapter 1

Written for the Forever Ficathon; Tropes Gone Wild challenge, however I had started on this idea before I stumbled upon the announcement and went "hey…". :D Rated for mature subjects, but the rest is squeaky clean. ;)

This takes place post canon and is woven into my own writings, basically becoming sort of a personal headcanon. There are certain references to my recent story, 'Unexpected' and though this piece should certainly stand on it's own, you can also read them together as companion pieces.

For a pronunciation guide and historical notes I've added an additional chapter. The historicals are toward the end and do contain spoilers, so if you'd rather not be spoiled, stick to the pronunciations of any foreign names or words until the end of the story.

As always, the characters within are not mine but are the property of Matt Miller and WB. I just like playing with them occasionally.

And last but definitely not least, an extra special thanks goes to my beta, Idelthoughts. Not only did she kick me in the pants when needed, but also kept me from rambling. Again, thank you. Your help is, as always, greatly appreciated.

Oh and yes, I cheated on the character tags, but it would have ruined the surprise otherwise. ;)

* * *

 **Chapter One**

He learned to tell the days of the week and hours of the day by the play of shadows across the ceiling and the schedule of the hospital personnel. Of course, not at first, in the beginning he was angry. No, angry wasn't a strong enough word, he was furious; so furious that adrenalin raced throughout his bloodstream like a two hundred year old brandy. He had to admit though, Henry had played his hand very, very well and he was almost… proud of him. That didn't stop Adam from wanting to slice him a thousand times, slowly, before finally letting him die and hunting him down to repeat the process all over again. Sadly, all he could do was lay in this hospital bed. He had his choice of staring at the back of his eyelids, the ceiling or the upper portion of the wall directly opposite the bed, and eventually his anger cooled. That was when he started studying the patterns of the hospital staff and pairing those with the quality of light and dark.

Henry came weekly, rarely talking after the first day. He would simply check the chart he had brought with him from the nurse's station, and sometimes making covert changes to its pages. His mere presence however provided an odd sense of comfort, as well as one of frustration that they were back to square one.

On Henry's third visit Adam had decided that it must be a Sunday, since the hospital was quieter than on other days. It was also the second of two days that there were no doctors' rounds. After a handful of Sundays, Henry even brought his detective. Again neither of them spoke, but Adam could hear them murmuring quietly to each other outside the door once Henry had completed his weekly records check. And strangely enough, the younger immortal began talking to him after that. At first it was just a simple greeting as he came in. After several more weeks, it became snippets of lives being led outside the hospital's confines; Abraham's genealogy efforts and their appreciation of the info Adam had provided, how the antique business was faring, or a particularly tricky piece of evidence that Henry had enjoyed uncovering. He never spoke of the detective though, which Adam found telling. Still, to his own amazement Adam started looking forward to hearing about everything Henry did offer up.

After what Adam felt to be at least six more weeks, and probably four months total since he'd found himself tucked away in the hospital, he started receiving another visitor. Although he was at a complete loss as to their identity, he knew it was a woman by the hint of perfume that made it's way to him occasionally. There was also just a feminine feel about the presence. Lay in a hospital bed unable to move for long enough, and your senses go into overdrive.

At first he thought that his late night companion might be one of the hospital staff. He was by now very familiar with their presence and movements, but unlike his regular nurses, she never greeted him or approached the bed. He also never heard the typical sounds that came from the cleaning staff, who for the most part only came in during the day. She, on the other hand, always appeared late at night when the only light was a single, dim bulb, and the silence was as deep as it gets inside a hospital. As the nights wore on, he would occasionally get the briefest glimpse of her as she wandered about the room; a pale lock of hair here, a flash of white skin there. Despite moving his eyes to the limits of his upper and lower vision, the only articulation he could manage, she was always just out of sight.

After six nights by his best count, his mysterious visitor was about to drive him to complete distraction. Even recounting everything that he had thought about doing to Henry when he could move again, a _nd he_ _ **would**_ _move again_ , didn't take his mind off of her. He wanted to scream at the younger immortal when he appeared on the following Sunday, to beg that Henry adjust the head of the bed upward just a little bit more, so that he could finally see the mysterious woman. He even tried to signal Henry with his eyes, but to his great frustration the muscles wouldn't obey him well enough to produce even the most basic of Morse code.

Finally, exactly ten nights from the one when she had first appeared, a Tuesday if he had calculated correctly, she entered the room and walked straight to the bed. She was accompanied by the sound of one of the small metal carts that the hospital staff transported supplies on. After it grew quiet he waited, and waited, until he began to wonder if maybe he had imagined the whole thing. Then he heard her clear her throat and felt her breath faintly on his cheek.

"I'm going to place my left hand on the right side of your face and move it slightly to the side so we can see each other better, alright?" she said in a light, calm tone. She then reached across Adam's face with an arm that smelled lightly of the Lily of the Valley scent that he had detected on her previous visits. Gently laying a soft hand along his face from temple to jaw, she turned his head so that their gazes met.

The first thing he saw were large eyes of an indeterminate color framed by long lashes and dark winged eyebrows. A cascade of loose curls, which appeared to be ash blond in the low lighting, fell just past her shoulders and teased along her jawline. She had delicate features, her skin glowed with a fragile paleness, and she was smiling gently at him with full, well formed lips. Concentrating on his peripheral vision allowed Adam to see that she had a long, graceful neck, and was wearing the rose pink scrub top that typified the uniform of the female hospital staff, but no name tag. The woman's smile grew slightly and she cocked her a head bit to one side before speaking again.

"Well Adam, it's nice to finally meet you, even though you have been a very, naughty boy. Don't worry though, I won't hold it against you too much. Now, I do believe the nurses were preoccupied and missed your bath today, so why don't we remedy that while we talk, hmm?" Turning, she pulled the cart she'd brought closer to the bed. Adam could see a green plastic basin as well as several towels arranged neatly on the metal surface. Turning back to Adam with the same peaceful smile, she slipped both hands behind his neck to untie the top of his hospital gown.

To say that Adam was intrigued would be an understatement. Short of Henry's second wife, no mortal had caught his attention in almost a millennium. The only women he had touched in that same amount of time had been of the oldest profession; simply used as a convenience, then paid and dismissed. He certainly didn't consider himself the monster that Henry tried to make him out to be. However, when everyone around you lived such a brief amount of time, you tended to think of them more like a pet at best, and at worst a means to an end. This lovely creature though, and Adam could still admire beauty in the human form as easily as that of a well turned sculpture, piqued his interest. He also felt like he'd seen her before, however he couldn't seem to remember where.

Dragging himself out of his thoughts like a swimmer breaking the surface of the water, Adam realized that this new caretaker had stripped his hospital gown off quickly and efficiently, while barely disturbing the sheet that covered his lower half. As he watched, she gathered the edges of the bottom sheet in her hands before looking him in the eye.

"Shall we start with the back? That way we can get to know each other a bit before reaching the front," she said before gently flipping him over with as much skill and ease as she had removed his gown. She then positioned his head and ventilator hose so that he could at least see some of her movements.

Just out of his field of vision, Adam heard the sound of water cascading back into the plastic bin on the cart. Seconds later, the feeling of a warm sponge touched his left shoulder, glided it's way upward, across the back of his neck, and then back down toward the right shoulder. It was followed quickly by the roughness of a towel. The bearer of the items hummed fleetingly under her breath before speaking.

"I would say I have you at somewhat of a disadvantage, but since I'm guessing that Adam isn't really your name… there's really no hope for it presently though, so I'll be forthright anyway," she said. "My name is Molly Dawes... at the moment. I was blessed under a night sky and given the name Maille Nic Delbáeth Ierne. I am a child of De' from what you would have originally known as Hibernia, and was born twelve hundred some odd years before Rome completed its conquest of Britannia. So you see, Adam was actually a rather poor choice of monikers when it came to teasing Henry. Oh and no suspicions, not only does Henry not know my secret, he also has no idea I'm here. I actually haven't seen or talked to him for several months, though like you, I've been keeping an eye on him."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Adam was stunned. After it had taken decades to track down Henry, here stood another supposed immortal who had simply strolled into his hospital room and struck up a conversation, albeit one sided. After the initial shock wore off though, a part of his brain started insisting that it was impossible. No matter what this Molly said, it had to be some scheme of Henry's. Once she had mentioned that name, Adam remembered that he had indeed seen her in the younger immortal's company, and they looked rather cozy at the time. Of course Henry had gone and fallen for that detective instead, but it didn't mean he wasn't still friendly with this one.

He wanted to sneer and inform her that she was playing games with the wrong person, to stare at her coldly until she flinched. _And don't they all eventually flinch?_ His stare presently consisted of the slightly unfocused gaze of a man trapped in his own body however.

Molly continued to wash him, quiet again after her declaration. If she realized he didn't believe her, she didn't let on. Once his back was clean, she removed the sheet from one leg and buttock at a time, taking care not to overly expose him. After she'd reached the soles of his feet, she dropped the sponge back in the water and took a bottle from somewhere behind the container, showing it to him.

"It's an infused oil, my own formula; arnica, chamomile, calendula and horsetail. It will strengthen your skin, lessen any inflammation and help prevent bedsores," she said before opening the cap and pouring some of the concoction into her hand.

Placing the bottle back on the cart, she warmed the oil in her palms before spreading it down his body, adding extra as she went. When she had covered every inch of skin, she cocked a hip up onto the bed and began to massage it in. Her touch was light at first then harder, digging deep into the muscles until she was easing aches he didn't even realize he had. As she worked, the scent of the oil reached him and reminded him of green, growing things. It made him long to be outside, away from stench of antiseptic and sickness, and city.

"My mother was the first to introduce me to herbs when I was very young," Molly said, breaking the silence. "She taught me which ones could help, and which ones could hurt; how to heal a disease, end a life... provide an escape plan. It's served me well, and others like the villagers of Eyam, though I wish I had arrived sooner. Of course it's also gotten me burned at the stake."

Standing up brusquely, Molly gathered the sheet and flipped Adam back over while continuing to maintain his modesty. If this was some kind of seduction meant to distract him from Henry, it was the oddest one he'd ever seen. It also seemed strange that she hinted at escape. Why would Henry put him in here, only to release him after this elaborate charade? Was his conscience getting the better of him even though he refused to admit it? The whole thing wasn't making sense; why would a mortal, even one Henry had coached, hand him all this information and then offer up the hope of release? Even if he continued in this fashion, eventually he'd die and come back, only to hunt her down. It would be simple enough to disprove her immortality at that point. Of course, it could all be some strange form of torture, to offer the hope of release and then snatch it away. Something else she had said niggled at him though, a comment about an Eyam... He filed it all away for further thought, it wasn't like he had anything better to do, and the easing of stiff muscles was making it hard to think.

Repeating her earlier actions, Molly made sure the oil covered his entire front while avoiding his groin area. Once she'd finished with his arm, leg and chest muscles, she straightened the sheets and put him back in the hospital gown before kneeing up onto the bed. Carefully, she straddled his legs and sat back on her heels, while making sure not to place too much of her weight on him. She then leaned forward, rested folded her hands on his sternum and propped her chin on them while holding his gaze.

"I've noticed that you have vertical ocular control. Can you look up for yes and down for no?" she asked.

Adam looked up. A feeling ran through him, as close to happy as he could remember. Someone was finally trying to communicate with him.

"No horizontal control?" she inquired further.

He looked down.

"It's pretty common for Locked-In Syndrome," she said. "What about your eyelids, can you blink?"

Adam looked down, indicating no, but then closed his eyes. The movement was slow and difficult, but doable. At least the nurses didn't have to come in and tape his eyelids closed each night; one small humiliation he was saved.

"Well, that's something," Molly said with a smile. She paused a moment, just looking at him, and then asked, "You still don't believe me, do you?"

Adam looked down.

"I didn't imagine you would at first. I also think you probably saw Henry and I together at some point," she said, more of a statement than a question.

He looked up.

"Funny how that worked out. I had never intended to make contact with him. I usually don't if another immortal is trying to blend in with society. But, one of my clients was murdered and Henry turned up at my door, along with the police investigation." She stopped speaking when Adam's eyelids fluttered and studied him.

"You blinked, or close to it. It couldn't have been intentional so I'm guessing involuntary. I surprised you somehow... you didn't know there were others like us?" she asked.

Adam looked down three times in quick succession.

Oh, there are," she said, raising her eyebrows at him. "I know of five, other than you and myself, and Henry of course. Two are trying to live like Henry, within the constraints of everyday mortal life," Molly paused to grin and shake her head slightly before continuing. "They do manage to die quite a bit less than he seems to. One, Martin, or St. Germain as he prefers, developed a deep psychosis and had to be removed from the world at large before he became any more erratic. The other two are like me-well, one is like me in that he moves from place to place checking out rumors. The other is our source of information. He's actually pretty good at the technology thing for an immortal, and he tracks what's going on in the world to keep us updated. He also keeps an eye on Martin. We've crossed paths with you a couple of times, but found that you're a hard man to pin down for the most part. By the time one of us arrived, you were gone again."

Sitting up and pulling a cellphone out of her scrubs pocket, Molly activated the screen and tapped it several times. She must have turned the speaker on as well, since Adam could hear it ring three times before being answered.

"Molly, to what do I owe the unexpected delight of your call?" the male voice on the other end asked. If Adam was guessing, he'd say the accent was probably first acquired somewhere around India.

"Evren, I'm putting you on video," Molly replied before tapping the phone's face again. Once the screen lit up, she smiled at the screen. "Do you remember that friend that we've been trying to track down? I finally got him to stay still long enough for a talk." Flipping the phone around, she put the screen in Adam's line of vision.

The man on the video chat looked to be in his mid twenties. He had jet black hair which fell in loose waves to his jaw and wore a neat van dyke. His skin was the color of a good latte, and when he smiled at Adam his teeth were even and very white against the facial hair. A nasty looking scar ran down from his right eye and disappeared under the corner of his jaw.

"Ah, greetings, so glad Molly was able to track you down. She told me you're something of an expert on history. My knowledge doesn't go back much before the mid 13th century, but hopefully we'll have a chance to compare notes sometime," Evren said.

Molly turned the phone back toward herself. "Alright Ev, I need to go. See you soon. I'll call if anything else comes up," she said before blowing the other man a kiss, closing the app and turning off the device.

Just as she looked up from the phone, the hospital room door rattled. Molly glanced at it before turning back to Adam. "Hmm, sounds like my time's up," she murmured. "The ID I forged would pass, but the locked door is going to raise questions either way. Guess I'm going to need that escape plan."

As the rattling of the door became more insistent, Molly took something from her pocket and held it up so Adam could see. Tucked into her palm was a tiny, dark glass vial which she quickly uncorked before pouring the contents into her mouth with a sour look. After putting the bottle back in her pocket, she removed the sim card from her phone and leaned forward, placing it somewhere above Adam's head. By the time she sat back on her heels, she was shaking her head as if to clear it.

"I apologize for popping out on you like this. I'll be back though, we haven't finished our conversation. It may be a couple of days, I have some things to take care of first," she said, the last words slightly slurred.

Someone started pounding on the door but the sound of a quick reprimand stopped it as Molly laid her upper body on top of Adam's. He could feel her erratic breathing as it slowed and then stopped. On a whim, he started counting off the seconds as he'd heard children do. By the time he had finished nine one thousand she was gone, and he could hear keys jangling just outside the door.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Adam laid awake for hours mulling over everything Molly had told him. When he finally did sleep, the dreams were constant and jumbled.

 _Ferney, France, home of Francois-Marie Arouet, 1777_

 _"I assure you Monsieur, I have no idea where Comte Saint Germain is at the present time. He could be in Paris just as easily as London. With his grasp of so many languages, it is said he has become an envoy for the Crown. I shall be traveling to Paris soon for the opening night of my 'Irene'. If you wish, I shall inform him of your desire to speak with him, should he be in attendance."_

 _London docks, Spring, 1667_

 _"Did you hear about Eyam? They said they'd never seen anything like it. Almost half the village survived the blue sickness and lived to tell of it."_

 _"I'd heard more lived than died. Odd with the way it hit elsewhere."_

 _Rome, 43 BC_

 _He had stepped into the popina to purchase a bottle of wine on his way home when he overheard several hastati gossiping over their cups and dice._

 _"Seius said that he has seen it himself; that one of the captives they took from Britannia had a wound longer than his hand on one leg. He used something from a pouch of dried herbs they had let him keep, and it was healed to nothing more than a scar in three days time. He said those druida are thick as flies all over the place, as well as on Hibernia"_

 _Another hastati made a rude noise. "Seius has seen too many battles, and drinks too much."_

 _Salon of the Comtesse d'Adhemar, Paris, 1785_

" _Non, I am sorry. We received word that the Comte met his end while a guest of Prince Charles of Hesse-Kassel last year. I imagine this puts the rumors of his immortality to rest once and for all."_

Each dream was interrupted by a nurse checking on him, and yet he found himself in another the moment he sank back into sleep.

The hospital staff continued to be more attentive the next day, and he imagined that word had gotten around about his mysteriously locked door. That night, Molly did not return, though he really hadn't expected her to.

When Sunday morning rolled around, Adam was beyond agitated. Molly had still not returned, and he had turned over absolutely everything she had told him in his mind for two solid days. By the third, he had spent the entire day with his thoughts and emotions bouncing from one extreme to another. One moment he decided she was lying, despite her dying and then disappearing right on top of him. The next minute he was sure that she was in league with Henry and had only come to torture him. Then he was afraid that something had happened to her and she couldn't get back. It went on and on. No matter which way his thoughts were going at the time however, a thread of desire to meet these other immortals she had spoken of was a common denominator.

Was she really over 1200 years older than he? Did it really matter? What mattered right now was that she had proven herself immortal, and she knew of others. He was no longer alone in the world, or more to the point, he was no longer the only one that didn't insist on wallowing in some pointless need to lead a normal, mortal life.

"Good morning, Adam," Henry said from the middle of the room. He had come in without Adam noticing, so engrossed in his own thoughts he was that nothing seemed to register lately.

"I see your vitals are good, despite being somewhat erratic over the last week. I'll make note to compare them to next week's, make sure there's no health problems brewing," The other immortal added as he studied Adam's chart.

Placing the metal clipboard on the rolling table next to Adam's bed, Henry took a seat in the room's only chair and addressed the older immortal. "An interesting thing happened last week. It seems I have someone leaving me care packages in the river, clothes, towel, the whole affair, though I have no idea who. Probably one of my co-workers trying to help with my so called somnambulism... It certainly is a thought I should have entertained long ago though."

As Henry continued, Adam found himself laughing inside. He could only guess, but was almost sure that the one person who would poke at Henry in just that way had worked out her own such system long ago. Henry on the other hand, had wanted to deny his immortality for so long that he probably would have never thought to provide such a backup without the push. He almost seemed to relish the self flagellation that, what was it called nowadays, the "walk of shame," helped create each time he died. Although Adam also considered their shared immortality an affliction, he at least found some aspects useful. Alternately, Molly almost seemed comfortable with it.

Eventually Henry wound down and took his leave after promising to see Adam the next week. He never mentioned the locked door incident, so the hospital had probably covered it up, not wanting to alarm their patient's "family". Adam promptly dismissed the other man from his thoughts. He preferred replaying the night of Molly's visit over and over to try and keep every scrap of information fresh in his mind. Dozing off at some point, he awakened with a start, not exactly sure what had disturbed him.

Peering into the darkness, he strained to listen for any noise beyond the whoosh and click of the the ventilator. Then he detected the brush of fabric on drywall and a click from the door lock, or at least he thought, and so he waited. It didn't take long for her to emerge from the shadows this time. Relief that she had returned and anger that it had taken this long vied within him at the sight of her.

"I apologize for the delay of our chat," Molly said. Sliding onto the edge of the bed, she braced one hand on the other side of him so that their eyes met. "It took longer than I imagined to wrap things up here. I'll be flying out this morning and had both the apartment and office to contend with."

NO! She had only mentioned leaving, but to Adam the loss was instantaneous and deep. He couldn't let her go, she couldn't just leave him here, not after revealing everything she had. He did the only thing he could think to do, which was to look down, over and over, until her hand came up to the side of his face.

"Hey, easy. We'll discuss it. That's why I'm here, just hear me out."

Adam stopped and stared at her, willing her to release him.

"As I mentioned, we normally don't get involved in the affairs of other immortals. Unless of course they pose the risk of revealing themselves, and by association the rest of us," she said. "If certain entities in the mortal world find out one of us exists, they might decide to look for others, and we'd all be in danger. I originally came here to determine if Henry was just such a risk. As we both know, he does die a rather inordinate number of times. Now that he's involved with Detective Martinez though, I think she'll keep him reined in."

Pausing, Molly stared at him for several seconds as if in thought before continuing. "You, however, pose somewhat of a unique problem. I can't exactly leave you here in the hands of mortal health personnel, nor can I have you chasing around the city after Henry. The relationship you've initiated is unhealthy at best and detrimental to everyone, mortal and immortal alike, at worst."

She stopped speaking again and sighed. "I would like to release you from here, it's cruel when there are other options, especially for an immortal. I can't however blame Henry for coming up with it. Here's the bargain; If I release you, you have to promise to leave Henry alone and fly out with me. I'll take you to meet others of our kind, ones that deal with their immortality better than Henry. You can't have contact with him again though, Adam. He will never be like you, he's too fragile, longs too much for mortality. If you continue to try, you'll break him, and we really will be forced to remove him."

Leaning forward, Molly came almost nose to nose with the other immortal. "But mark my words. If I release you from this bed and you go back to haunting Henry's steps, Gero, Evren and I will drop everything and hunt you down," she whispered. "It won't be the first time, and we are very, very good at what we do." Sitting back up, she looked at her watch. "I'll give you an hour to think it over. You're an intelligent man with excellent skill sets. We'd be happy to have you, if you'll agree to work with us," she added before standing up and walking out of the room.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

At first Adam was elated. He could gain his freedom, but freedom to do what? Did he actually want to continue his endless game with Henry? Molly was right and he knew it. Henry wasn't like him, or like Molly, not really. Yes he was immortal, but only because he could die and be reborn in water. Henry would probably never think like him, no matter how many years the he gave the younger immortal, or how hard he pushed. Breaking him might be fun, but more likely it would be completely pointless. On top of that, Adam wasn't sure he wanted to hang around to find out any longer. No, there were other immortals out in the world that held much more of an interest to him. He suddenly realized that Henry had become… unimportant.

The hour dragged by, but eventually Molly returned and took up her position on the bed once again. "Have you decided?" she asked.

Adam looked up for yes.

"Are we leaving here together?"

Again, Adam looked up.

Smiling at him, Molly nodded. "Good. We're only a few blocks from the East River. If we get separated, there's construction going on near pier 42, before you get to East River Park. Meet me by the fence that runs almost to the water. I've got clothes stashed nearby for both of us."

Reaching up to the light strip above the bed, Molly retrieved the sim card she had put there on her last trip. Looking at it for a second, she walked into the bathroom and Adam could hear the toilet flush before she returned.

"Luckily all our info is backed up. I've already got a new sim with the original data on it. That wasn't anything more than a loose end." As Molly spoke, she produced a syringe filled with a dark amber fluid as well as a tourniquet from one of her scrubs pockets. Setting the syringe down on the rolling cart, she picked up his arm and tied the rubber strip above his elbow. Bending and straightening his arm several times, she then tapped the skin in the crease, looking for a vein.

Once she seemed satisfied, she paused and looked into Adam's eyes. "Last chance, are we doing this?" she asked. When he signaled yes, she picked up the syringe. After releasing the contents into his vein, she recapped the needle and put the empty syringe back in her pocket.

After the needle was removed, Adam waited, curious about the effects of the unknown fluid. A tiny voice in the back of his mind kept insisting that within moments she was going to tell him it was all a trick, but he silenced it firmly. Counting as he'd done before, he was at ten seconds before it felt like every blood vessel from his arm to his heart was on fire. Once he reached twenty seconds the feeling had spread everywhere, including his stomach and lungs. Through watering eyes he could vaguely see Molly down her own dose of poison while shutting down the ventilator. It was the last thing he remembered before the dark tunnel, and water.

Breaking the surface of the river, Adam inhaled large gulps of cold night air and reveled in the feeling of the frigid water against his skin. Flipping onto his back he floated there, staring up at the clouds that enveloped the night sky, until he heard a splash somewhere off to his right. Tilting his head back to orientate himself, he switched to a smooth but slow backstroke. By the time he reached the water's edge, Molly was already standing in the shallows among some large chunks of concrete, not the least bit shy about her nudity.

"Welcome back, Adam," she said with an incline of her head.

Standing once the riverbed allowed it, Adam stared out at the lights of Brooklyn. "I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever stand in this river again," he said.

Molly waded back into the water and circled around, coming to a stop just in front of him. Reaching out, she placed her hand on his shoulder, waiting for him to look at her before she replied. "Last time for that as well, at least for a while."

"And if I go back on our bargain? Walk away and resume the life I was leading before?"

Molly raised an eyebrow at him. "We came to an agreement Adam, and if you think being stuck in the hospital was bad, you really wouldn't like the way we take care of immortals that leave a path of carnage in their wake, the ones we consider... uncontrollable."

"And exactly how do you 'take care' of them? Would you leave me in the care of Evren?" Adam asked, a trace of the old superiority creeping back into his voice.

"No, we bury them," Molly replied lightly.

Adam's musing ground to a halt. "You've figured out how to end our affliction?"

I didn't say we killed them, just that we buried them. You should know that one isn't necessarily inclusive of the other."

From somewhere along the fence line, a male voice interrupted them. "Are you two going to stand around in the river all night, bare for the world to see?"

Adam whipped around, immediately on alert, but Molly just chuckled before replying. "Not if you remembered the clothes this time, Gero."

The man she had addressed as Gero stepped from the shadows and hoisted what appeared to be a duffle bag. From where he stood, Adam gauged him to be at least several inches shorter than his own height, and built squarely. Any other observations would have to wait, as it was too dark to size him up properly.

"Hmph, It's been fifty seven years, you'd think she'd have let me live it down by now," the man said, not sounding the least bit perturbed. Adam got the feeling this was an old game they played.

Gero started swinging the bag back and forth, with each repetition growing larger. "I could always toss them to you Molly, see if you've gotten any better at catching."

Moving past Adam, Molly started for the river bank. "And offer our guest nothing but wet clothes? Not very hospitable of us." Seizing the shoulder strap of the bag as it came near, Molly tugged it out of Gero's grasp. Dropping the whole thing on the ground, she knelt to unzip a side pocket which yielded up a flashlight. Once turned on, the low, red beam of light shown over the top of the bag and she quickly unzipped the main compartment. As she pulled out clothing, she automatically sorted it into two stacks and eventually handed one to Adam. They were followed by a pair of lace up boots with socks stuffed inside.

"Gero, I know you have a penchant for tactical wear, but did you have to make us all look like some kind of paramilitary organization?" she asked, briefly rotating the flashlight up to play over the other man.

With the help of the red glow, Adam could now tell that Gero was indeed broad shouldered, with arms bulky enough that they didn't quite meet his sides. He was wearing a black silk thermal shirt, which looked to be stretched to its limit, and a pair of black cargo pants tucked into the tops of combat boots. A square face, slightly heavy brow and classic greek nose hinted that he was probably somewhere in his late thirties or early forties, but the light brown or reddish full beard he wore could be adding a few years. Straight hair a shade or two lighter than the beard was pulled back into a queue at the base of his skull.

Turning his attention the clothes Molly had handed him, Adam realized the reason for her comment. The pants were identical to Gero's, but closer to his size. Instead of a thermal shirt though, he found he'd been given a sweater that looked to be the style commonly worn by British commandos. It was olive drab in color from what he could tell, and even came complete with leather elbow patches. Pulling the clothing on, he glanced over at Molly to see that she was dressed in her own black cargo pants combined with a dark gray fisherman's sweater, and was currently lacing up black boots.

"The more intimidating you look, the less likely it is that people will pay attention," Gero replied. "It causes their normal little minds to skitter right over the details."

Molly gave a rather unladylike snort. "Unless it's their job to notice, and there happens to be three of us." Snatching up the bag at her feet and dropping the now dark flashlight inside, she glanced over to make sure Adam was completely dressed before adding, "We've been still too long, let's move."

Gero motioned toward the pier and headed that direction, with Molly following closely behind and Adam bringing up the rear. When they reached the parking lot, Adam stopped and let the other two get ahead of him. Glancing behind her, Molly noticed that he had turned and was facing the lightening sky. She tapped Gero on the shoulder, handed off the duffle bag and then backtracked.

"Hey, is something wrong?" she asked from behind him.

"Where do we go now?"

"We fly into Prague later today. We have a house on the outskirts. Evren and Martin will be waiting for us there," she said.

"Did you know... other than tracking Henry here, I don't remember ever having a true destination?" Adam asked.

"Well you do now." Letting her breath out in a whoosh, she paused before adding, "I know what it's like, to feel as if you're the only one. It may be a strange concept but you have friends now; people that share your condition, that understand what the years can do to your mind, your soul.

Several emotions tumbled through him; anger, fear, amusement, but none of them grew strong enough to come boiling to the surface. Finally he said, "I'm not sure I have a soul."

"If you didn't, you wouldn't have been looking for someone like yourself, Adam," she said.

Later, he wouldn't be sure if he spoke the next word to her or the rising sun. "Joseph."

"Excuse me?"

"I was known as Gaius Julius Cartacus, but my given name was Iosephus. Joseph might be easier."

Walking around to look him in the eye, Molly reached out, placed her hand over his heart and smiled up at him. "Salve, Joseph."


	5. Pronunciations & Historical Notes

**Pronunciations and Historical Notes**

\- Maille - Celtic/Gaelic, later anglicized to Molly. Often pronounced MEHL-leh

\- Nic - Pronounced as spelled, in early Celtic/Gaelic culture it denoted daughter of, followed by the father name, or possibly the mother's if she had high standing in the tribe. Ni was also used for girls, and Mac was used for boys. Occasionally, both parents' names were used if they carried equal weight among the tribe.

\- Delbáeth- Celtic/Gaelic, modern spelling is Dealbhaoth. The few references I found pronounce this as dell-bay

\- Ierne - Celtic/Gaelic, pronounced ihrn.

\- Popina - Pronounced po-pina, long O long I, emphasis on the first syllable. Early Roman term for what is today known as a wine bar. They carried and served various, simple prepared foods in addition to the wine. Generally populated by the poorer classes and sometimes associated with illegal and immoral activities.

\- Hastati - Pronounced with the A in dawn and a long I, no emphasis on any syllable. A lesser class of infantry during the Roman republic that served in the front lines of the army as spearmen.

\- Salve - Roman greeting meaning welcome or greetings. Pronounced Sal-vay or Sal-way, depending on the speaker.

* * *

Child of De' refers to the Tuatha De' Dannan. I used the Tuath here as a historical people, not the mythology they are currently seen as. Some historians believe that because early Irish history was spoken rather than written, it became a kind of giant whisper game, and the feats of their ancestors grew in each telling until they became the deities we now think of.

Comte Saint Germain was actually a historical figure whose name was often paired with the concept of immortality. If you enjoy weird history then you might want to google him sometime, the accounts are really fascinating.

In Roman culture, slaves were given only a single name by their master. If they were set free, they were then given the praenomen and nomen of the former master, followed by their slave name. Thus, my own personal headcanon became that Gaius Julius Cartacus was the slave Cartacus who had previously belonged to Gaius Julius Caesar.

Common supposition has been, from Adam's comments in the show, that he was present and killed during the assassination of Caesar while trying to protect him. History mentions no one dying trying to protect Caesar. In fact, there was no one trying to protect him at all per the records. The few friends he had who were present weren't even be able to reach him as he was surrounded by his attackers. There were also no guards in the room since he was closeted with the Senate. I created an interpretation saying that whoever might have died in the process wasn't of enough importance to mention in written history, thus someone with a lower societal stature. He was, however, present during the killing and within reach of Caesar at the time, possibly a scribe or other lower ranking employee, and freed slaves often worked for the Senate. In addition, although hated by high ranking Romans, Caesar was beloved by the common people. They would have thought of him as a good man.


End file.
